The moment Adrian ascended beyond the atmosphere and entered open space, he felt the oppressive weight of chaotic essence lift from his body. The perception limits that had constrained him within the planet’s surface vanished completely, and his awareness expanded freely in all directions.

He paused, suspended in the void, and let himself adjust to the sudden clarity. Below, the relic world’s surface writhed with distorted currents. Above, the stars burned steady and cold.

He turned his gaze outward and observed the star system this planet belonged to. There were only two suns surrounding the planet. Aside from these, the system was entirely desolate. There were no additional planets, no asteroid belts, no visible celestial bodies of significance. The relic world stood alone, isolated in silent void.

Adrian retrieved his UNI-OS node.

Now that he was outside the planet’s chaotic interference, the device should be able to connect to local networks and get information about this galaxy. In the first place, this was not even the Andromeda Galaxy. It was an entirely different one, and according to the Nine-Vault Commerce Sect, manual travel between Andromeda and this galaxy using a standard starship would require an enormous amount of time.

He activated the node.

A blue holographic interface projected into the void before him.

› Current Region: Virelith Galaxy Void

› Searching For In-Range Free Networks…

› Detected Two Free Networks…

› Listing Free Networks

New text materialized across the display.

— FREE NETWORKS —

› Void Fang Sect Network [Private] — Invitation Required

› Obsidian Rift Sect Network [Private] — Invitation Required

Adrian frowned slightly.

“Hmm… no decentralized network?” he muttered.

He searched again, but the result remained the same. There was no decentralized public network within this galaxy. That significantly limited his immediate options. Without access to a local public net, he could not browse forums or gather open information about this galaxy. The two detected networks were private sect networks, and without invitation credentials, he could not access either of them.

For now, at least he got to know the galaxy’s name. When he returned to Andromeda, he could search for information about the Virelith Galaxy and learn more about its power structure.

He stored the node back inside his spatial ring and shifted his attention to the planet below.

From space, its surface was completely obscured by twisting layers of chaotic essence. The chaotic currents folded and overlapped endlessly, distorting the visual field so severely that he could not even identify the Azure Garden’s location from orbit.

Numerous thoughts flowed through his mind. There were many things he wanted to accomplish, but his highest priority remained clear: guiding his people and making them stronger.

His people still had to unlock their perception to see rules. They had to cultivate the Crimson Vital Sect’s divine concept. They had to form Mana Seas and increase their mana capacity. There were countless foundational steps that still needed to be completed.

All of that required time, resources, and a stable environment. This planet and the garden within it could serve as a major support for all of that.

Even if he could not expect the Crimson Vital Sect to allocate large portions of the garden’s resources directly to his people, the ambient environment of the garden itself was an ideal place for cultivation.

Adrian looked around at the desolate star system. This was an unknown galaxy that could bring unexpected dangers. But thinking deeply about it, his options right now were extremely limited. Moving the planet was something he had done many times, but he had never moved planets between galaxies. At least for now, he couldn’t risk that option. Other than that, hiding this planet with a formation was the only way, but even that was limited now since he didn’t have enough mana crystals to power planetary formations. Even the Crimson Vital Sect was not in a situation to afford that; at least, it would take a little time for them to arrange it.

Adrian gazed back at the planet. Temporarily, he couldn’t avoid the external dangers, but he could focus on taking care of the issues within the planet first. The chaotic environment surrounding the planet was dangerous and unpredictable. It could trigger unknown events at any moment.

The first step toward securing this world would be to eliminate the chaotic environment entirely and turn this planet into a safe domain.

At present, the only method he possessed was manually expanding his devour-based divine domain and relying on its inert properties to refine the chaotic essence. From space, he could expand his domain and cover the entire planet.

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But there was a problem. Before, he didn’t do this exact thing because of caution over Everlasting Pill Sect members, guardians over this planet, and the garden itself. Now the Everlasting Pill Sect problem was solved, and there seemed certainly no guardians on this planet.

But the garden itself was still there. If he expanded his domain across the planet, its inherent function would refine everything within its range, including the Azure Garden itself. He could not risk damaging the garden, so he needed another method.

A sudden thought crossed his mind. “A divine spell.”

If he could not safely use his domain, then he could instead create a spell designed to target specific areas and refine the chaotic environment selectively. His devour-based divine concept was perfectly suited for this purpose. If the domain was too indiscriminate, then a precisely constructed divine spell could solve the problem.

Adrian floated in the silence of space, considering the approach.

He closed his eyes and turned his awareness inward, and began constructing a spell structure within his mind.

This was his first divine spell he was working on, and he didn’t have a reference of the structures of other divine spells. So he started with the simple fireball spell’s structure, but replaced the arcane fire rules with the rules belonging to his devour-based divine concept.

Adrian extracted those organizational principles of a fireball and began overlaying his divine concept’s rules onto the framework.

The first attempt collapsed immediately.

Divine rules possessed far greater complexity than arcane ones. It was basically a merge of multiple arcane ones. Where fire simply burned and expanded, his devour-based divine concept carried layered processes: intake, refinement, and stabilization. The simple fireball structure couldn’t support the additional weight.

Adrian tried again.

Divine spells served as a progression mechanism within the universe. Even a low-level divine spell forced a cultivator to explore specific functionalities of their divine concept. By mastering higher-tier divine spells, a cultivator could deepen their understanding and increase their overall mastery, which in turn unlocked greater authority.

However, creating a higher-level divine spell from scratch without external guidance was extremely difficult. Adrian had known this theoretically, but now, creating his first divine spell, he experienced it firsthand.

He fully understood the devour-based divine concept and its rules. Yet combining specific fragments into a stable spell structure produced different results each time. Efficiency, output strength, mana consumption, and functional stability all depended on precise arrangement. Optimizing those variables required extensive experimentation and time.

The second attempt held together longer. The sphere formed in his mental space, dark crimson with swirling currents visible beneath its surface. Then a fragment responsible for directional intake rotated incorrectly, creating a feedback loop. The construct devoured itself from within and shattered.

Adrian’s willforce dipped slightly from the mental strain.

At present, his mastery of this divine concept remained at the Early Rule Stage. If he wanted to ascend using this concept, then he would need to create more higher-tier divine spells.

But even designing a basic fireball-style spell required much effort, and improving it further would require extensive iterative refinement. And because this was a cognitive process rooted in consciousness itself, it would consume willforce over time. One could not endlessly experiment without rest.

He rotated the problematic fragment, adjusted the binding sequence, and reinforced the outer shell with stabilization rules. The third attempt stabilized.

This entire experience showed Adrian how difficult things would be if he wanted to create unique divine concepts for his people and create an entire cultivation pathway for it.

Sects existed for this exact reason. Thousands of cultivators across generations refined divine spells through trial, error, and shared comprehension. What took one person decades might take a sect only years through collective effort. And what took a sect years might take a great sect merely months through accumulated wisdom spanning eons.

Adrian had no such support. He worked alone, building from nothing.

For now, however, Adrian did not worry. He did not require a high-level divine spell; rather, he only needed something functional. Even a low-level divine spell would suffice to handle the chaotic environment below.

He dismissed the initial fireball structure and began assembling a new one from scratch. The devour-based divine concept carried rules of absorption, refinement, and many others. He selected specific fragments, those responsible for controlled intake, purification, and stabilized release, and integrated them into a new construct.

This time, he abandoned the fireball’s aggressive compression. Instead, he designed the sphere to remain semi-permeable, allowing continuous exchange with the surrounding environment.

When the structure stabilized in his mind, he attempted to cast it.

Crimson essence flowed from his outstretched palm, coalescing into a sphere roughly the size of his fist. It was visually similar to Starbreaker but fundamentally different in internal structure and functionality.

He launched it toward the planet’s surface, targeting a specific region of the chaotic atmosphere.

The sphere descended through the void, trailing faint crimson light. Adrian drifted after it, maintaining visual contact as it approached the planet’s turbulent outer layers.

As the sphere entered the upper layers of the planet’s atmosphere, it halted midair, and then it began functioning.

The chaotic essence immediately pressed against the sphere from all sides, but the construct held firm. Its semi-permeable shell opened, and dark currents began flowing inward. The sphere absorbed chaotic essence from the surrounding region, refined it internally, and released purified mana outward. Within its limited radius of influence, the chaotic turbulence transformed into stable mana.

After a short duration, the sphere dissolved. Adrian analyzed the result immediately.

The construct had lasted approximately forty seconds before exhausting its internal reserves. The purified mana it released dissipated quickly, reabsorbed by the surrounding chaos. Without continuous operation, the effect was temporary.

He had only cast the spell using only fifty mana units, so its operational range and time was therefore limited. Once its internal energy was exhausted, it dissipated. That meant the range, duration, and speed of refinement were directly proportional to the mana input.

Adrian performed rapid calculations. If he increased the investment to five hundred units, the sphere should operate for roughly six minutes and cover a hundred-metre radius. At five thousand units, perhaps an hour with a kilometre of influence. The scaling was linear and predictable.

Or another method was to create a better structure for the spell and create a higher-level divine spell, which could do the same thing with less mana.

But refining the spell structure would require weeks of iterative development, perhaps months. He didn’t have that luxury. Brute force through sheer mana investment was the faster solution.

A faint smile appeared on his face. For now, this was enough.

From space, he could cast dozens or even hundreds of these spells toward specific regions of the atmosphere. By targeting areas carefully and avoiding the Azure Garden entirely, he could gradually cleanse the planet without disturbing the alchemical ecosystem below.

Unlike his domain, this method offered precision, and precision was exactly what he needed.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep